Читать книгу Desire Collection: August 2017 Books 1 - 4 - Joss Wood, Rachel Bailey - Страница 16

Eight

Linc jogged down the steps and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and great room, taking in the chaos. A lasagna bubbled in the oven. Cady and Piper sat on the big leather couch closest to the kitchen, and Sage was in the chair opposite them, Ellie on her lap, holding her bottle and fighting sleep. Ty, Jaeger and Piper’s son, sat in the high chair next to the granite-topped counter, and Shaw was perched on the counter itself, a piping bag of shocking green icing in his hand, biting his lip as he squeezed the contents onto a cupcake.

His burly brothers were standing on either side of Tate. Beck was using a small roller on what might or might not be bright yellow dough, and Jaeger was pressing a cookie cutter into garish purple icing.

These were going to be the brightest and messiest cupcakes in the history of pre-K bake days, Linc decided as he walked into the room.

Tate was the first to notice his arrival, and their eyes clashed and held as he walked across the great room. Judging by her glazed eyes and half-open mouth, she was reliving their X-rated, happened-in-the-closet kiss. He dragged his eyes off her before he embarrassed himself, and greeted Cady and Piper, bending down to drop a kiss on Sage’s head. Because he could and she was cute, he kissed Ellie’s head, as well. He walked over to the kitchen area and ran his hand over Shaw’s bright head, taking a moment to connect with his son.

Shaw’s eyes, that intense blue he shared with Kari, met his. “This is the best fun ever, Dad. We’re making spacemen cupcakes.”

Beck lifted his head and mock frowned at Shaw. “Spacemen? I thought we were making dinosaurs!”

“And I thought we were making monsters,” Jaeger chimed in, joining the teasing.

“Spacemen,” Shaw told them, his tone suggesting that they were both village idiots. He gestured to the badly decorated, messy batch of finished cupcakes, beaming with pride. Linc had never seen anything that looked less like spacemen in his life.

“They are so cool,” Shaw said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“They really are, buddy,” Linc lied, straight-faced. “How many do you still have to do?”

Shaw held up a half-decorated cupcake in his hand and looked a little disgusted. “Just this one. Tate says that she has to make some that girls will eat, so she’s going to do the rest later.” Shaw sent Tate a hard look. “No pink and no fairies.”

“But I can do flowers, right?” Tate asked, her mouth twitching.

“Just a few,” Shaw reluctantly agreed.

Linc walked over to the huge fridge and pulled out three beers, opened two and placed them in front of his brothers. Unable to resist touching Tate, Linc allowed his fingers to slide up and under her shirt to find the band of soft skin just above the waistband of her leggings. “Wine, Tate?”

Linc noticed that Tate sucked in her breath as his fingers trailed over her skin. Oh, God, this waiting was killing both of them. Good to know that he wasn’t alone in this madness.

“I’m good...thanks,” Tate said as if she were battling to find her words.

Linc checked on the levels in the wineglasses across the room before twisting the cap off his beer bottle and taking a long sip. He was thirsty, hungry and tired but, mostly, he was horny. He’d ditch the beer and the food in a heartbeat if he could kiss that sexy spot where Tate’s neck met her jawline...

“Have you made any progress finding out who is buying up Ballantyne stock?” Jaeger asked him, leaning his butt against the counter.

Linc, pulling his mind from the bedroom, shook his head. “No, not yet. But I will.”

“As a family we own controlling shares, and as long as we stick together, we are safe from a hostile takeover, so I don’t seen the point of anyone buying up big blocks of stock. Combined, we own sixty percent of the company, but this company, Lach-Ty, now owns five percent. Worrying,” Beck stated, picking up his beer.

Worrying about Ballantyne International was his job, as was protecting his family. But he’d done a crap job so far in regard to finding out who was behind the purchases of the shares. He had a company name, Lach-Ty, but little else. He loathed operating in the dark and decided to ask Reame to look into the situation. His pal had the skills, or employed people with the skills, to dig up the information he needed.

Linc placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, Beck. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“As long as we stand together,” Beck replied, his tone giving away his concern.

“We always do. We always will,” Jaeger told him, and Linc flashed him a grateful smile.

Jaeger nodded briefly. He glanced at the oven and bellowed, “Who is hungry?”

“Me!” Shaw shouted, waving the icing bag around. Linc saw splatters of radioactive green land on Tate’s chin and chest. Reacting quickly, he reached across the counter and grabbed the bag from Shaw. “Easy, Shaw.” He grinned at the streak of green in Tate’s hair, the spots on her cheek. “Tate now looks like a spaceman.”

Instead of rushing off to the bathroom in a panic to clean up, in order to look perfect, Tate dragged her finger across her chin and popped the icing she gathered into her mouth. Her gaze met Linc’s, and his knees buckled at the lust and laughter in her eyes.

“At least I taste good,” she murmured.

That he could vouch for...

“Well,” Jaeger drawled, his eyes bouncing between them, “I have a feeling that dinner is going to be quick, and that big bro is going to be kicking us out of here as soon as we are done eating.”

Linc didn’t drop his eyes from Tate’s.

“Damn straight,” he muttered as Tate blushed. “Feel free to leave now. You can even take the lasagna with you.”

* * *

Tate, feeling sticky and a little headachy from tension and anticipation, piped a pale yellow swirl onto a vanilla cupcake and reached for a premade bumblebee, carefully placing the little bee at an angle. Nine cupcakes down, three to go. Looking around the relatively clean kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d been surprised, and grateful, when the Ballantyne brothers had cleaned up the mess they, and Shaw, had made in their effort to create their spacemen cupcakes. The dishwasher was loaded, the counters wiped down, the ingredients put away. Sage had even stayed to help her mix up four colored bowls of icing and had even offered to help decorate the next batch of cupcakes.

But Tate knew that Sage still had hours of work ahead of her, so she’d gently refused her help. Besides, she wanted to be alone with Linc. Well, as alone as they could get with two kids in the house. She just needed to get these last few cakes decorated, and she could take a shower and rid herself of her grimy jeans and sticky T-shirt. And then, God willing and children cooperating, Linc would blow her mind...

And, hopefully other parts of her body, as well.

Tate’s head snapped up when she heard Linc’s footsteps and sucked in her breath as he walked across the room to her. He stopped just behind her, slid his strong arms around her waist and laid his chin on her shoulder. “How many more to go?”

Tate tipped her head back to rest it against his collarbone, inhaling his masculine cologne and the underlying scent that was all Linc. “Three. It’ll go quick, if I’m not distracted.”

Linc nuzzled her temple before standing up straight. He dropped his arms and moved to stand next to her, his hip pushing into the counter. “What can I do to hurry this process along? I mean...to help?”

Tate lifted her eyebrows, trying not to laugh. “Are you any better at icing than your brothers and son?”

Linc smiled. “Not really.” He gestured to her pretty cupcakes, a complete contrast to the other messy ones. “Yours look fantastic. Are you going to fix the spacemen?”

Tate shook her head. “I’m not going to do a thing.”

“They aren’t exactly of ChildTime standards,” Linc said, and Tate heard the doubt in his voice.

“Screw the standard,” Tate cheerfully told him. “Shaw made them, he loves them, that’s all that matters. Besides, they are bright and sugary. The kids will inhale them.”

Linc pushed his fingers into his short hair. “You’re right. What Shaw thinks is all that’s important.” He walked over to the cupboard, pulled down two tumblers and a bottle of really expensive whiskey. Linc placed a half-full glass close to her, and she murmured her thanks.

“How was the photo shoot?” Tate asked, trying to think of something to talk about to keep both their minds off the smoking hot sex they were about to have.

She also needed a distraction from the realization that she’d loved everything about this evening, had so relished feeling like an integral part of a family, like she was needed and important. Normally, she would’ve avoided anything that smacked of Harriet Homemaker and run at the first hint of domesticity, but she’d thoroughly enjoyed herself. She even—dare she think it?—wanted more.

You’re losing your mind, Harper. You’re just overexcited because you’re about to get laid, and your brain is working overtime.

Get a grip.

“Long,” Linc replied, boosting himself up to sit on the counter next to her work space. God, how was she supposed to concentrate on her swirls when his long, muscled thigh was a few inches from her hand, when she could see his tanned flesh through the rips in his jeans?

Tate noticed the unusual ring on his middle finger. “Jaeger had Kashmir sapphires. Beck, red beryl. Sage, red diamonds, but I don’t recognize your stone.”

“Alexandrite.” Linc pulled the ring off his finger and held it between his thumb and forefinger. He turned it, and in the red depths Tate caught a flash of green, then yellow, maybe a hint of orange. It was stunningly beautiful.

“Emerald by day, ruby by night,” Linc explained. “It changes color depending on the light source.”

“I’ve never seen you with it before.” Tate picked up the bag of yellow icing and pulled a bare cupcake toward her.

“Despite my job, I’m not a jewelry-wearing type of guy. This was Connor’s ring. I was with him, the day he discovered this stone,” Linc explained, his voice low.

Beneath the lust hovering between them, she heard nostalgia and longing in his voice as he shared an incredible memory. Yes, of course she wanted to explore his fabulous body, but she didn’t mind taking a stroll through his amazing mind. “Tell me more.”

“It was about six months after we moved in here, and I was recovering from chicken pox. I was better, but the doctor insisted that I stay home, and I was bored out of my mind. I couldn’t believe it when Connor invited me to attend an estate sale with him, somewhere upstate. He bid and won this box of what was mostly costume jewelry. But amongst the junk was a stunning ruby pendant and this ring. Connor was beside himself, alexandrite was his favorite stone, and the ring slid onto his finger as if it were made for him. He never took it off until the day he died.”

“And you inherited it.”

Linc’s big shoulders rose and fell. “He was my dad, the only dad I knew. Or wanted. He never married, but, with my mom’s help, he raised four kids and made us feel loved every damn day.”

“And he and your mom?”

Linc smiled. “They were best friends, and she was devastated when he died, but nothing, as far as I knew, sparked between them.”

“And she had no problem with him adopting you?”

Linc shrugged. “I think she did in the beginning. But they worked it out. He wanted me as much as he wanted the others, and I was his son, with or without her permission. Connor convinced her that him becoming my dad didn’t stop her from being my mom.”

Tate placed her hand on his knee and squeezed. “You must miss him.”

“So damn much. He was my North Star, my magnetic pole. Funny, so smart, so full of life. He was, in so many ways, the glue that held us together. He was our charismatic, fearless leader.”

“And now you’ve taken over that role,” Tate observed, thinking how much responsibility Linc carried on his big, broad shoulders.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Linc replied, his voice scratchy with emotion.

“And are you okay with doing that?”

“Connor would expect it, and that’s reason enough. Though, admittedly, there are days when I’d like to run away.” Linc lifted his glass to his lips, and Tate noticed the slight tremble in his fingers. “While this family mostly, runs on discussion and democracy, the buck has to stop with someone, and that someone is me.”

“Your siblings would probably disagree with that. And, to be honest, they look like they are very capable of running their own lives.”

“They are,” Linc admitted. “And they do, but they all know that I’m standing behind them, ready to catch them if they fall. As for the company, I’ll protect the Ballantyne wealth and assets with my last breath.”

He would, Tate realized. His son, his family and their loved ones, were at the center of everything Linc did. He existed to protect his family and the company his father had loved and created. But where did that leave his wants and desires? He was so busy giving that he rarely took, probably didn’t think that he had the right to be loved and protected and cherished himself.

I could, if I was braver, less independent and not terrified of staying in one place, I could love him. I could give him what he needed.

But, realistically, all she could give him was sex. Hot, intense, hopefully mind-blowing sex. Sex that he wouldn’t forget.

Tate reached for a pink rose, plunked it on top of the last swirl of icing and ignored the last bare cupcake. She tossed the piping bag on the counter and pushed her hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist.

She was done. She wanted a shower and this man. Now.

Tate looked at Linc. “Shaw asleep?”

He nodded.

Tate gestured to the baby monitor. “So is Ellie.”

Linc, not moving a muscle, just looked at her, his eyes blazing. Oh, God, was she going to have to spell it out for him? Maybe she could write Let’s Strip on the counter with pale pink icing. Tate held her breath as Linc dropped to his feet to stand so close to her that her breasts brushed his chest. He picked up a strand of her hair and twirled it between his fingers. She sighed when she saw the green icing from her hair now smeared on his fingers. “You’re a mess, Harper.”

She agreed. “I know. I’ll go shower and—”

“You’re a hot, sexy mess,” Linc murmured, ignoring her interruption. “You smell of sugar and chocolate and some perfume that drives me insane. You aren’t wearing a shred of makeup, yet your face looks like it should be on the cover of a fashion magazine.”

Linc placed his hand on her cheek, and his thumb drifted across her cheekbone. Tate gripped his strong wrist as his sexy words flowed over her, into her, heating her blood and drying up the moisture in her mouth.

Linc’s thumb moved to her mouth. “I can’t wait to touch you, taste you, to see you naked. I know that my fantasies will not match the reality.”

Tate placed her hands on his chest and sucked in a deep breath. “All I need is a quick shower,” she begged.

Linc bent his knees and in one fluid, easy movement, scooped her into his arms. Tate wrapped her arm around his neck, as she absorbed the heat from his hard, lean body. “You can shower later, sweetheart, preferably with me. I’ve waited too long for you. I’m not waiting any longer.”

“But—”

Linc ignored her protest and strode over to the couch, holding her close to him before allowing her feet to drift to the floor. “I need you, Tate. Now.”

Since she sensed that Linc rarely, if ever, used need and you in the same sentence, she just linked her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to brush her mouth across his. She couldn’t give him what he needed, deserved, on a long-term basis, but she could give him what he needed tonight. That she could do.

“I’m here, Linc. Take me.”

Linc, smart man that he was, didn’t need any further encouragement, and he quickly pulled her shirt up and over her head. Dropping the sticky garment to the floor, Tate watched his face as he looked down at her chest, his hands moving to cup her breasts in his big, masculine hands.

“So pretty, Tate.”

To Tate’s surprise, Linc lifted his hands from her breasts to tunnel his fingers into her heavy mass of hair, and he angled her face to receive his no-holds-barred kiss. Tongues tangoed as he devoured her mouth, learning her taste, her essence, silently telling her that he wanted more.

That he wanted all that she had.

Exhilarated by his passion and his low, guttural murmurs of appreciation, Tate undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed it open so that she could explore the hot skin of his wide chest, to discover the hard muscles underneath.

So sexy, she thought, pure masculine strength. Tate’s fingers traced the ridges of his stomach and moved on to the long muscles on either side of his hips and couldn’t resist the urge to dance her fingers across the powerful erection that tented his jeans.

Oh, yeah. He felt amazing, and, judging by Linc’s sudden gasp, he liked what she was doing as much as she did. And she liked it a lot. Teasing him, Tate traced his long length with the tip of her finger.

“Tate.”

He muttered her name against her mouth, but she heard the desire and the demand in his voice. Linc’s hands skated down her back to find her bra strap which he snapped open with a minimum of fuss. The cups of her lace bra fell away, and Linc pulled the fabric off her bare breasts, revealing her hard, pink nipples to his gaze.

“Yeah, so damn pretty,” Linc breathed as his hands moved to the waistband of her leggings, pushing the fabric down her hips to reveal her tiny panties to his hot, hungry gaze.

His hands gripped and released her hips as he looked down at her, past her flat stomach, over the neat landing strip showing through the transparent fabric to her long legs.

“You are sheer perfection.”

She wasn’t, but she appreciated the words.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Ballantyne,” Tate whispered, dropping a wet, open-mouth kiss on his bare chest as she attempted to undo his belt buckle.

Linc slid his hand between her legs and cupped her, his thumb immediately finding and brushing her sensitive spot through the fabric of her thong, causing her to moan into his chest. If she didn’t get her hands on him soon...

“Help me, Linc. I need to feel you,” Tate told him, looking up as she laid her flat palm on him, wishing that she had a spell to magically make clothes evaporate.

Linc’s hand pressed hers against his erection, and she heard his ragged breathing, his low curses.

“We need to slow this down. If we don’t, I’m going to toss you onto that couch and take you, right here, right now.”

And that would be a problem? “Since that’s exactly what I want—hot, fast, furious—I’m wondering why you are waiting.”

Linc reached behind him and pulled out a strip of three condoms from the back pocket of his jeans. He ripped off a packet with his teeth and allowed the rest to fall to the floor. He dropped the packet into her hand with a wicked, tempting smile. “You said that you want to get your hands on me,” he teased.

“If you helped me with your pants, I would,” Tate retorted, opening the foil packet.

Linc lifted an amused eyebrow. “Feeling flustered, sweetheart?”

Tate looked him in the eye. “Aren’t you? We have all this raging heat, and I can’t wait to stand in the ring of fire and burn with you.”

Linc undid his belt and, using just one hand, flipped open the buttons to his jeans. He pushed his jeans and underwear down his hips, and Tate caught her breath when she saw his big erection standing straight and proud.

She flashed him a grin. “Wow. Talking about pretty...”

Linc groaned when her small hand encircled him, and nipped her jaw with his teeth. “Pretty? Try another, more manly adjective please?” he teased, laughter in his voice.

“Impressive? Masculine? Bold?” Tate rubbed her thumb lightly over the head of his shaft.

“Those will work,” Linc growled, pushing her thong over her hips. When they were completely naked, he sat down on the couch and pulled Tate onto him, so that her knees straddled his thighs.

As his hands moved between her legs she curled her hand around his long and thick erection. She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to be pushed, possessed, filled, taken to the limit. She wanted to feel as if she like belonged here, with him, just for this brief slice of time.

As Linc tested her readiness by sliding his finger into her, Tate pulled out the condom and swiftly rolled it over him, sucking in her breath as he hardened even more.

“Tate, I don’t think I can wait any longer. I need to be inside you,” Linc said, his voice rough with need. “I know it’s our first time, and I should be taking it slow but...dammit, I don’t think I can.” Not giving her time to reply, Linc hooked his big hands under her thighs and lifted her up, spreading her legs so that the head of his shaft probed her wet, feminine core. Linc’s hands on her hips gently guided her down as he thrust into her with one long, confident stroke. Tate felt herself liquefying, her entire focus on how Linc felt inside her. Her vision tunneled and there was just the two of them in the world, and making love was all that was important, all that could ever matter. Linc’s hands on her skin, his mouth under hers, him filling those long neglected spaces was all she could focus on.

Linc held her breasts in his hands, his fingers caressing her ultrasensitive nipples, and his tongue in her mouth mimicked the thrust of his hips, the sure strokes as he lifted her closer to the sun.

“Come for me, honey, let me feel you,” Linc coaxed, his forehead against hers.

Tate was beyond speech, so she replied by grinding down on him as lightning danced along her skin.

Linc moved his head so that he could speak directly in her ear. “You feel so good. So sexy. Take me, Tate, take all of me. Yeah, like that.”

Her mind and body full of him, Tate reached for her release, and she shouted as another bolt of lightning skittered through her and splintered her body into a million pieces. Somewhere, from a place far away, she heard Linc’s demands in her ear, his words not making sense. But his body did, and she understood the silent demand that she reach for more. She wanted to tell him that she couldn’t, that it was all too much, but then he touched a place deep inside her and she exploded again, harder and faster than before.

A century might’ve passed, or maybe it was only a minute or two, before she came back to herself, her cheek against his chest, his arms holding her tight.

“We did it,” Linc murmured, his hand brushing her hair off her cheek.

“We most certainly did,” Tate agreed, her mouth curving into a satisfied smile.

“The sex was fantastic, I agree, but I was referring to the fact that we managed to make love without one of the kids waking up.”

Oh, right. She’d forgotten about the kids upstairs. But until one of them yelled, she wasn’t moving a muscle. “Yay.”

“Want to see if we can do it again while the going is good?” She heard Linc’s smile in his words, felt the curve of his lips against her bare shoulder.

Tate nodded. Nobody could ever accuse her of not being up for the challenge.

“Slow and sexy this time?” Tate asked.

Linc’s wonderful mouth curved upward. “Sexy every time, sweetheart.”